Nothing Else Matters
by Fyrebyrd
Summary: Through an unexpected twist of fate, Bella gives Edward what he's been waiting for; something he's wanted for quite some time. However, under the circumstances, he's unsure whether to accept.
1. Chapter 1

**As always, Fran is my fixer and Judyblue, 2browneyes, Vampiregirl read this.**

 **This fic is dedicated to my good friend and Fyremasen writing partner, Lissa. When I learned she'd took on a huge job in the Straight Thru the Heart contest, I knew I had to write. This is the result. I hope you all enjoy and Lissa, I hope you like it too. (Rules are in effect, aside from the marriage and babies, but maybe one day!) I love you, dear friend.**

* * *

 **BPOV**

Angela slides up beside me and gives me a slight hip bump. "Hmm, looks like you have an admirer, Bella." Her head minutely tilts in the direction of a table located directly in my line of sight.

I follow her nod, discreetly of course, and almost choke on my saliva. "Pfft, you really have lost your mind, haven't you?" With one final longing glance at the fine specimen occupying a lone chair, I turn to Angela. "You do know who that is, right? There's no way he's here for me."

She rolls her eyes and takes over the computer to clock in for her shift at the campus library. "Yes, Bella, I know exactly who he is, but here's the thing, I've been paying attention. Every shift I work after you, I come in and he's sitting right there." She finishes with the computer and turns to me with an intent look. "But then, as soon as you're done for the day, he leaves. Trust me, he's here for you."

I allow my eyes to trail in his direction and catch him looking, no _staring_ directly at me. A smile spreads across his lips and his fingers lift in a small waving gesture. My cheeks heat, and I turn my head without responding, dropping my eyes to my feet.

 _Stupid Bella,_ I chide myself. _He was looking at you, staring at you, and you acted like a blushing schoolgirl. He probably thinks you're an inexperienced virgin._

When I finally draw enough courage to lift my eyes, I meet the raised brow of Angela. "See? Definitely, positively here for you, missy." She pokes me lightly in the chest and again tilts her head in his direction.

Unable to avoid looking any longer, I move my eyes back toward the table. Brilliant green gazes at me still, and a small gasp escapes my lips, but I hold firm, lost in the depth of his eyes. They sparkle with mirth, but also something else, something enticing, inviting. They almost beckon me to them. An involuntary smile quirks my lips.

So lost am I in the heat of his gaze, the burn of his stare that I miss the terror of what is beginning to happen. It isn't until he jumps from his seat in a panic that I snap back into the present.

There's a girl, she's bloody and running toward Angela and me. My mind is trying to come to grips with what's happening and why she's so bloody. When she reaches us, her lips are moving, but it's as if everything is in super slow motion and the words aren't reaching my ears.

Suddenly, a loud bang echoes in the silence and everything comes back; sounds, movements, chaos. I'm barely able to take in everything. Edward is up and moving, other students are scattering in a panic, and finally, the girl before me gasps and drops to the floor, blood seeping onto the pale pink shirt she's wearing.

I'm frozen in my spot, my eyes trained on her as she lies gasping for breath in front of my desk. Snapping into action. I start to move toward her only to have a firm grip close over my arm. "No, Bella. We have to hide!" Angela yells.

My eyes find her for only a second, and they're filled with terror and pain. "We have to help her, Angela," I say evenly and snatch my arm from her grasp.

Moving to the girl, I drop by her side; her breaths are coming in short pants, blood sputtering between her lips. I try to stay calm. Taking off my sweater, I bunch it up and push it to her chest, applying pressure. She tries to speak but I shush her and run my fingers through her matted red curls.

"R-run," she manages to whisper.

My brows furrow. She's lying here, sure to die with no help, and is asking me to leave her. "Shh." I rub her head more firmly, hoping she can feel me there beside her. She won't be alone. "I'm not leaving you alone, I'm here. Shhh—"

A loud click right at my ear interrupts the moment. "And you'll pay just like she did. Fucking bitch," a hateful voice snarls.

I freeze, unsure of exactly what is happening but knowing no good can come from it. Refusing to give the intruder a moment of my attention while this girl's life slips away before my eyes, I lean closer to her.

Her eyes widen in fear. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She frantically starts shaking her head, her eyes jumping between the person who's behind me and me. "D-don't … let him"—she stops to sputter more blood—"k-kill you too."

I have to admit that her words freak me out, but I also doubt that he's willing to just allow me to walk away either. I shush her again and try to remain as calm as possible, continuing a steady circuit through her hair in hopes to bring her peace.

Sirens wail in the distance and sounds waft in from outside, pulling my attention to the door. It's hanging from its hinges with a chunk of wood missing near the latch. A frown forms between my brows as things start to add up in my brain.

Before the whole picture becomes completely clear, a strong hand clamps over my shoulder and pushes. I land with a thump on my ass while the man leans over the prone form of the dying girl. "See what you caused, bitch? Now I'm going to have to kill this one just for trying to help you. You're a pathetic waste of space," he spits and the girl flinches, causing her breaths to cease for a few seconds.

Panic takes over my senses, and my eyes jump around the library. Green finds me, stopping their frantic search. He's peeking from around a shelf in the very back. His eyes are worried, but they never leave mine. His fingers reach up to cover his lips in a shushing motion, and he slips one shelf closer to where I'm trapped with a soon to be murderer. She isn't dead now, but she will be if he doesn't allow anyone to help her.

My eyes widen in warning and I shake my head minutely. He can't risk his life for me, not with this maniac wielding a gun. His focus is rigid, though, unyielding, as he studies the scene with shrewd, calculating eyes.

Before any more progress can be made, a loud voice echoes from outside. "Come out with your hands up," it yells. "We have the building surrounded."

The man with the gun tightens his fist in the dying girl's curls, lifting her face closer to his. "See what you did," he spits, shaking her. "You've killed us all, whore." He slams her head back to the floor with a sickening thud and before I can even make a move to stop him, he's smashed the butt of the gun into her temple.

She heaves out one last gust of air and then goes still. I start crawling to her, my mind churning with regret. "No, no, no. Please, God, no," I chant.

Before I can reach her, he backhands me, causing me to crash to the floor. "Bella." I hear a scream in the distance and try to keep my focus on that voice, not wanting to lose myself in this nightmare that feels as if it's happening to someone else.

Frantically I search, my jaw throbs from the pain of the blow, but my mind churns with ways to escape, as they look for green and lock on its location. Clawing my way across the harsh carpet, I attempt to reach it.

To reach him.

Suddenly, his face changes. The hope and desperation previously there suddenly morphs into pure terror as his body moves in slow motion toward me, arm outstretched, mouth open with a scream I can't hear.

A boot lands beside my head.

I freeze.

The loudest bang I've ever heard ricochets through my psyche.

Blackness clouds my vision.

Everything fades away.

.

.

Waking up snuggled into his warmth is the best way to start my day. His arms encase me so I snuggle closer; inhaling his scent, before opening my eyes to the bright glare of the sun. Dust particles float in the air, and for one more moment, I relish the feel of being wrapped in this warmth.

All too soon, he joins me in wakefulness. Instead of pulling away, though, his arms pull me closer. "Morning," his gruff, sleep-roughened voice says into my hair.

My arms reach around his back and my nails scratch lightly. He growls. "Don't tempt me, Bella. You'll never make it to class if you do," he warns.

I weigh my choices, and even though being with him is the most fulfilling experience ever, I have a presentation today. Withdrawing from the comfort of his arms, I jump back and sit up. "You're right. I have to go." I slide to the edge of the bed but suddenly find myself under a solid form, my torso trapped between muscular thighs.

Inquisitive green studies me, perusing my almost naked body before landing on my own. Slowly, while staring into my eyes, his hand starts a circuit at my thigh. Up, up, up, it slides, caressing and squeezing along the way. I arch underneath him, craving more; all of him.

Presentation be damned.

Warm, smooth lips lean down and push against mine softly; it drives me mad with want and I open.

Tongue fierce and seeking.

Fingers planting in the riot of auburn hair atop his head. When his lips slide to my neck, I, at least, have the decency to ask, "Can you be quick?"

He pulls back with a smirk. I'm halfway there already, and he knows this. His eyes tell me so. With a deft movement, his head is planted between my legs and his fingers are pushing my thong aside.

Before I can protest, his tongue finds me, and all coherent thought leaves my mind. I writhe below him as he provides me with the sweet torture I've come to crave. Slow, fast, pushing, pressing, fucking me with his fingers—the combination of it all drives me higher and higher.

I thrust to meet his ministrations and clench when I'm almost there. My hands find purchase on the headboard, anchoring me in place to ride the waves as they wash over me, spasm after spasm running through my body.

No longer very coherent, I barely notice the lips as they slide up sweat slickened skin and make their way to my own. But when they connect, I latch on. My lips say the words I'm too incoherent to mumble.

 _Thank you._

 _I think I love you._

 _Don't ever leave me._

"You're welcome," he says with a smirk after we break apart.

I play it off. "For what?" I bat my eyes innocently.

Long fingers find my sides and tickle me into submission. "All right. All right, I give. Thank you, Mr. Sex God, for the morning orgasm," I respond between giggles.

"That's more like it." He plants one more thorough kiss to my lips and rolls to the side.

I lean up on my elbows and eye him. "Are you sure you're good?" I motion to his rock hard cock sticking out the top of his briefs.

His hand slides down and pushes over it, I almost moan at the sight. I think I actually do lick my lips. He stops at my expression. "No time. Now go before you're late for your presentation." He makes a shooing motion and I gasp at the reminder.

"Shit." Jumping from the bed, I rush to the shower.

.

.

Turns out, what I was so freaked out over was a piece of cake. I think, anyway. By the time I left class, I was flying high, knowing I'd done well. I flew even higher when _he_ was waiting outside with takeout from my favorite place.

A smile I can't even attempt to stop curls my lips. "What's this?" I wave my hand toward the food.

He loops one arm around my shoulder and points us back toward the dorms. "I thought we could celebrate you acing your presentation." He shrugs like him standing there waiting for me isn't a big deal. Because, I mean, it is a big deal.

He's an enigma for a college guy. Very popular, doesn't party, makes good grades, comes from money and is somehow able to ignore the throngs of women who bow at his feet just for the hope that he'll speak to them.

I'm so lost in the thoughts of my perfect man that I don't even have a chance to respond before he speaks again. "Is that okay?" His voice is soft, afraid he's messed up somehow.

I stop in my spot, facing him. My hands land on his chest and my mouth moves so close we're breathing the same air. "Okay?" I say softly. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. Thank you." I lean up and press my lips to his, hoping he can feel what I feel when he's near.

"You're perfect," he mumbles and delves his tongue inside to plunder my mouth, standing on the quad with no thoughts of who may be watching.

.

.

Graduation time is upon us and with that comes decisions. Decisions about our future. Words like 'us' and 'our' are commonplace now. Because we are that. We've been defined, and we slid into that role effortlessly, as if nothing had changed, and really, it hadn't.

We went from simple friends to what is probably the greatest relationship of my life in a matter of months, and now, we face the future.

Together.

Because our names are at the farthest ends of the spectrum, I'm nowhere near him when I make the walk, but I feel his eyes on me. I feel the swell of pride in his chest and I know it's there because I felt the same when he walked across that stage.

Afterward, there are a slew of people everywhere, but he's like a magnet, drawing me to him. I pull my dad through the throngs of people, my eyes scanning, until they land on him, that is. He's standing with a couple and a young girl. His family.

Nerves flit through my stomach, but I squelch them.

I've talked to these people before, unlike him who has never even spoken to my dad. I start walking again, and again the magnet does its job. He turns, spotting me instantly.

A smile as bright as the sun lights his face and an arm reaches for me as soon as I'm close enough. "There you are." He kisses my forehead and pulls me in for just one slight second before releasing me to hold his hand out to my dad. "Mr. Swan, so nice to finally meet you."

Dad takes his hand, begrudgingly, I have to admit, and pretends to like the guy he thinks will take away his daughter. I smile to myself, pleased that my two favorite men are meeting.

When they're done, he turns me to his parents. "Mom, Dad, this is Bella. Live and in person."

I go to hold out my hand, but his mom waves me off. Instead, she throws her arms around my neck. "Handshakes are too formal. You're already practically family." Her words meet my ears and I close my eyes to absorb them.

I want that very thing.

I want it so bad.

When his mother is done, his father offers a warm hug. Then I squat before his little sister with a smile. "Hi. Nice to meet you," I say offering my hand.

She looks at me timidly and then to her brother. His nod is all she must need to know I'm one of the good guys, because, with a timid smile, she takes my hand and shakes it in a big, exaggerated motion. "I'm Alice," she says through a snaggletooth smile.

The rest of the evening is spent with a mix of families; his well-off, and mine, just my dad and me. But even so, they make us feel as if we're already a part of it. And when dinner is over, they drop us at the dorms where he and I wave goodbye to them all.

My room is in a state of flux, like us. Boxes are scattered with clothes and books stuffed inside. The furniture is stacked in a corner, ready to be shipped, and the bed is bare save for the lone fitted sheet.

It still doesn't stop him from pushing me back and ridding me of my clothes. Tonight, we make love. There's nothing fast or hard about it. His strokes are slow and gentle as he worships me with his mouth and hands.

We don't speak, no words are needed. Our bodies tell the stories of our soul. We're one now and without even saying it, we both know it to be true.

After such a horrific beginning, we've turned terror into love.

Heartache into happiness.

Death into life.

Aloneness into togetherness.

And as he thrusts into me over and over, driving me so high I fear I may never come down, the words fall from his lips. "I love you," he whispers over and over between every worshipping caress.

"Oh God," I sigh out, overcome by his movements, his voice.

Him.

My breaths come in pants while his words still flow and the tightening begins to unfurl. A coil in the pit of my stomach releases and wave after wave washes through me. Almost incoherent, I begin chanting, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

He rises up and continues his relentless torture of my body, but his eyes, his eyes are burning into mine. Watching. Staring. Shining. Boring into me as I come undone beneath him, unraveling from the intense pleasure his words and body bring.

When it becomes too much for him, his eyes fall closed and the air rushes from his lungs as his face transforms. The intensity is replaced by peace as he rides his crest, thrusting into me again and again until he stills.

When his eyes open this time, they're shining. Brilliant in the dimly lit space. Soft lips push against mine, taking their time and pouring so much emotion that it takes my breath.

"I love you," he says, pecking me again.

"I love you," he repeats.

"I love you, Bella."

I open my mouth to respond, but a shrill beeping invades my mind.

.

.

My head throbs as the white glare forces my eyes to fall shut.

 _What's happening?_

 _Where's Edward?_

 _Did I tell him I love him?_

 _I have to tell him._

 _He needs to know._

I take a breath, which causes my lungs to burn, but I fight through it.

I have to find him, he has to hear me say it and not in the heat of passion.

Struggling to open my eyes, I squint against the harshness. Brilliant green stares back and I latch on, ignoring everything else around me.

I lift my arm and it's sluggish, heavy, but I fight to reach for that beautiful face.

He still stares. His expression is cautious and unsure.

I make contact and allow a sigh to escape. "Edward," I say my voice scratchy.

"Bella?" he responds quietly, questioning; his eyes never leaving mine.

I feel a sliver of regret move through me at his uncertainty, but I force it back and say what needs to be said. "I love you, Edward."

His brows furrow.

He stares.

His mouth opens, but no words come.

I wait patiently.

Wetness forms in his eyes.

He breaks down.

His head falls to the edge of the bed and tears stream down his cheeks. Incoherent words meet my ears, and confusion clouds my mind. I can barely keep my eyes open, but I try. I try so hard because he needs to know, he needs to believe me.

But the fight is lost.

Once again the darkness comes.

.

,

The next time the horrid beeping begins, I'm stronger. I fight harder and wake again to brilliant green. However, this time, worried brown is also peering down at me.

"Dad?" I question. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?" When he doesn't respond, I seek green again. "Edward? Please? What's wrong?"

Edward eases closer to the bed, wait, I'm in a bed? I look around for the first time and take in the room around me. We're no longer in my dorm, naked from our lovemaking. I'm in a different place—a hospital.

"What's going on?" I asks, my voice rising. Panic starting to set in. "Why am I here?"

"Shhh," Edward soothes, running his fingers over my arm. My heartbeat immediately calms. "You're okay, everything's okay." He turns to my dad. "Maybe you should get the doctor."

Dad nods and turns for the door. When he's gone, Edward turns back to me. "Do you know who I am?" he asks.

I roll my eyes, or at least, it feels like I roll my eyes, but I can't be sure since my head is throbbing so badly. "Of course, I know who you are. You're Edward … and I love you," I declare in case he missed the last time I said it.

His eyes widen.

"What?" I ask, his reaction sending a ripple of fear through me.

He clears his throat, his eyes turning glassy. "Nothing. I'm just so happy you're awake." His voice cracks on the last words.

I reach for him. He looks at my hand and then at me, curious again. I wait patiently while he weighs whatever is troubling him. Finally, he leans into my touch; his head rests in my hand. His other hand seeks mine, and I readily hand it over.

Watching me carefully, he removes my hand and brings them both to his lips for a soft kiss and then he places them on my stomach. My brows furrow, but he's not done, he lays his forehead against my arm and starts to speak. "Bella Swan, I don't know how or why you love me or if you'll continue to do so, but I swear I'm going to do everything in my power to keep it that way. I've loved you from afar for a long time and watching you—"

He breaks off, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Watching you get shot and lying here month after month has almost killed me. Please, please just give me a chance."

I don't understand his plea, but neither do I care.

My hand lifts and finds his auburn locks, making him cry harder. "Shh," I soothe. "It's okay, baby. Everything's okay. I'm here, you're here. We're together. That's all that matters, nothing else matters." My hand trails through his hair as I speak, hoping he'll hear me— _feel_ me.

His head is moving in a no motion even as the words leave my lips. Getting a little pissed, I lift his chin—not so gently—and meet his watery eyes. "I don't know why I'm here or what's happened, but I do know that _I love you, Edward Cullen._ And as long as you love me back, the rest doesn't matter," I say with nothing but conviction.

He swallows hard, my eyes skipping to watch his Adam's apple bob then snapping back to his face as he clears his throat. "You may hate me for this at some point, but yes, I love you, Bella Swan." His eyes are red-rimmed, but earnest, as he says the words I need to hear.

His hand reaches around and grasps my head, pulling me closer, face to face. Warm, soft lips push against mine with so much passion, the heart rate monitor spikes. He pours everything he is into that kiss and I feel it. His pain. His want. His struggles, whatever they are. I feel it all. But I also feel something else, something more.

I feel his love, strong and pure, zapping between our connection. I pour myself back into him, my emotions skyrocketing, my heart beating at a frenzied pace. When he releases me, a dazed smile curves my lips as I relax back into the bed with a sigh, finally feeling confident in where we stand.

Edward loves me back.

Nothing else matters.

* * *

 **If you're unsure, no worries. I have an EPOV coming tomorrow to wrap this one up for you. In the meantime, I'd love to hear what you** _ **think**_ **is going on!**

 **See you in the morning :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to Fran for polishing, 2browneyes, Judyblue, Vampiregirl93 and Michele for reading.**

* * *

 **EPOV**

Coming to the library every day has become my norm, my thing. Every shift she works that I can possibly manage, I'm here. Sitting in this same chair, my eyes constantly trailing to her. She's beautiful and helpful and kind and smart and I could go on and on.

She also doesn't know I exist.

Well, maybe that's a stretch since I checked a book out last week, and actually went to her instead of waiting for Angela to come on shift. But she doesn't _know_ me, know me; the boy who spends his time just waiting to see her smile as she helps someone out. Or the boy who wonders how she likes her coffee or if she even drinks it at all.

I'm the boy in love with a girl I've never even spoken to.

How does that happen?

It starts with a bump, crashing every book she's carrying down to the ground during freshman year. Hastily helping her grab them and feeling a current like no other run through where our skin met. Then in sophomore year, it's sliding up close to dance behind her at a party with a little too much drink flowing between us. In junior year, it's sharing a class and pretending I wasn't watching her every move, impressed by every correct answer she gave. This year, I plan to man up, to ask her out, to let her know she's supposed to be mine.

But how do you do that when she hasn't even noticed you for all these years?

You make your presence known and that's what I'm doing right now. Well, with a little help from Angela Webber, but I'll take what I can get. Their heads are bent close, but eyes keep cutting my way. I can't miss this chance.

When she finally looks at me full on, I smile and throw up a couple fingers only for her to look away so fast I'm not even sure if she saw them. So, I don't back down. I hold my stare and watch as Angela again speaks intently with her. I hold my stare as she chews on her lip, seemingly unsure of herself. And I hold my stare when she focuses her eyes back to me.

My breath catches in my throat. She's meeting my gaze, curiosity sparkling in her dark eyes. But then, _it_ happens. The thing that changes my life.

Our lives.

The thing that brings me here, to the hospital, praying that she lives through surgery. I tried to save her, I swallowed my fear and charged, but I was too late. She was still shot at the hands of a psycho killer who decided if his ex-girlfriend wasn't going to be with him, she wasn't going to be with anyone. All I managed to do was veer the bullet just enough so she might have a chance … and, I kept him from killing himself too.

He lives.

The deranged idiot, who shot my girl, lives.

I helped him live.

And all the while, all I can do is pray.

I can pray that she lives too.

.

.

I'm barely aware that other students are around me; gathered, waiting, hoping she makes it. So when a hand lands on my shoulder, I jump and look to the person it belongs to. Angela Webber. The pain and sadness in her eyes are almost too much for me.

"Edward," she says softly through teary eyes. "Thank you."

I just stare. Thank you. _Thank you_. This is what she says to me? Bella, her friend, is fighting for her life and she thanks me? I'm up and out of my seat so fast I have no time to ponder my actions, How the fuck could she thank me? I hid from him like everyone else, too afraid to face the psycho wielding a gun while she, she …

I drop to my knees and break down.

She refused to back down and allow that girl to die alone. She put someone else before herself. She stared in the face of danger. She risked her life. She, she …

It's too much.

The thoughts overwhelm me as I bury my face and cry into my hands. Loud, gut-wrenching sounds escape, but I don't care. I don't care at all.

Finally, a strong hand grips my shoulder. I look up and meet eyes so brown. Her eyes. Enclosed in the face of a gruff-looking man. "Stand up, son."

I pull myself from the floor as he stares at me expectantly. When I'm upright, I glance around the room. Eyes avoid me, but I know they saw, the avoidance is intentional. I'm embarrassed to have broken down so completely in a room full of my classmates.

The man, who still has a firm grasp on my shoulder, holds out his other hand. "I'm Charles Swan, Bella's father. I hear you're the one I need to thank."

Before he's even finished the words, I start shaking my head. "You _can't_ thank me _._ She's in there fighting for her life. I … I …" I trail off, at a loss for words.

He squeezes my shoulder roughly so that I meet his eyes again instead of staring at the floor. "No, son. I can and I will thank you. Got that?" I swallow and manage a small nod even though I don't think I really mean it. "Everyone says that he was sure to kill her had you not took him to the ground. So, yeah. I'm thankful you intervened, even if she was still hurt."

He gives my shoulder one final squeeze and drops his hand. "Now, follow me, and we'll go wait in the private waiting room specifically for family." He lifts a brow and turns and no matter how responsible I feel, I'd be an idiot not to take him up on it.

.

.

I don't know why Charlie, as he's told me to call him, chose me to let close, but he did and I won't squander my opportunity. Sure, Angela comes by too, but it's me who sits at her side every single day, every spare minute I have. Sometimes he's here too, but a lot of times he trusts me to look over her, and for that, I owe him more than I could ever repay.

I hold her hand, I read to her, I pray for her. I hope she can hear me and sometimes day dream that she does. Time moves on, people get back to normal, but not me. There is no normal without her there. I still go to class and get good grades, but every bit of spare focus I have is on her.

The one who owns my soul.

The one who may never wake up.

The one whose eyes I live to see again.

And then, one day, I do

Not only does she see me, but she calls me by my name.

 _My_ name.

And then, she says words I've only ever dreamed of hearing.

"I love you, Edward," she says.

And I'm lost in the wonder of the moment, almost not even caring that she doesn't know what she's saying. That she doesn't know me.

 _But she said your name_ , my mind argues against logic.

I simply stare, lost in the words she uttered.

I try to speak, but no words come. Tears form in my eyes and rush forward out of my control. I drop my head to the bed and break.

She's awake.

She's speaking.

And she said my name.

And when I am finally able to gain control, once again, she's sleeping.

.

.

"Charlie, I think she may be coming to once more," I rush out, noticing her twitching her head and her lids fluttering.

He comes over, leaning over my shoulder to peer down at her. "This how it was yesterday?"

"Yes, exactly like this," I confirm.

We both wait anxiously, watching her every twitch, expectant and wanting to see something, anything from her. With movements so slow, I feel as if forever passes, her eyes blink open.

This time, she recognizes her dad too, but strangely, she still addresses me. Panic starts to well in her eyes and questions pour from her lips.

I run my fingers up her arm in an attempt to soothe and if I'm listening to the beep of the heart monitor, it works.

I turn to Charlie. "Maybe you should get the doctor." He agrees and leaves the room.

Alone again.

And like before, she knows me, she loves me, she begs me to tell her I love her too and I do. I do, so much, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what she'll think when she knows the truth—she doesn't even know me at all.

But I can't deny her.

I can't deny my feelings when she asks me so desperately.

"You may hate me for this at some point, but yes, I love you, Bella Swan," I tell her, my emotions spiraling out of control.

I pull her close, staring into brown and I can't resist. I connect our lips and the sensations that run through me are ten times more than a brush from dropped school books or a shady dance at a party. They're electric, starting with our connection and sizzling through my limbs. It's both heaven and hell to feel this and know it's isn't really mine to have.

And when I release her, a serene smile curves her lips as she lays back and closes her eyes once more.

.

.

It takes two more weeks for Bella to start becoming aware on a daily basis. Even then, it's for small snippets of time. But in every single instance, she knows me, she _loves_ me. I'm almost ready to live in this dream world she's created for us, but I can't.

Charlie knows, Angela knows, everyone knows. They know I wasn't her boyfriend or even her friend. I'm just the lucky guy she thinks she can't live without right now. And strangely, I'm okay with that. Well, more than okay, I'm … _happy_ living this blissful lie.

By the third week, though, she's spending more time awake and is asking questions. Questions whose answers scare me. Questions that may break her—break me. Charlie keeps trying to put her off, for her sake, not mine, but she needs to be told why she's here. And with that should come realization—if she can remember the facts, and she should, she remembers everyone else.

She just remembers me too.

Even though there's nothing to remember.

Except a man who was afraid to go after what he wanted.

Graduation is today and I'm skipping. Since she's woken up, I spend even more time here than I did before, hoping to see her pretty, love-filled brown eyes as much as possible before she sends me away. She's definitely going to send me away. Who wouldn't? I've let her believe we're together. Sure, she thinks it's what she wants, but when the truth is told, she's going to be so upset.

And I'll be the cause.

I'm holding Bella's hand, watching her sleep when my parents enter the room. Although they understand my feelings and know the story, they were still a little disappointed when I refused to participate in the ceremony. So the least I can do is allow them to take me to dinner.

That's all the time away from her I'm willing to spend.

Because what if she learns the truth while I'm not here?

What if she pushes hard enough and Charlie breaks down and tells her?

I can't miss that moment, even if it's the last time I get to stare into her eyes.

"Son," Mom says quietly from the door.

I let go of Bella's hand and turn to face them. They wear matching expressions of sympathy as they stand there, unsure of what to do. "Come on in," I say, beckoning them closer.

Rising from my seat, I hug Mom and give Dad the man-pat. Then I tilt my head where my heart lies sleeping in her bed. "This is Bella."

My mom moves closer, reaching out to run her fingers along her cheek. "She's beautiful, Edward."

I rub the back of my neck, feeling embarrassed to even be in this position. "I, uh, I know."

Mom turns to me, wetness in her eyes. "Oh, honey." She pulls me into her arms and I want to cry, to break down and let my mommy soothe me, but even she can't fix this.

"Edward," an angel calls, causing me to pull away from Mom and go to her side. She's looking anxiously at me as I take my spot beside her, and then, her eyes side past me to the other couple occupying her room. "Mr. and Mrs. Cullen."

And then she smiles, she fucking smiles as if she's happy to see them—as if she _knows_ them.

Mom's eyes widen, but she quickly composes herself and steps forward. "Bella, how are you feeling, dear? Is there anything I can get you?"

Bella smiles timidly. "No thank you. I'm sorry you've had to come all this way to see me." Then she looks past Mom again, seemingly searching for something. "Is Alice not with you?"

I freeze.

Mom's eyes widen.

Bella's brows furrow. "Is something wrong?" She takes turns looking between the three of us and I'm so stunned that I can't even be bothered to turn to see my dad's expression.

My mouth opens, but words fail me. What can I possibly say? Somehow, somefuckinghow she knows my little sister's name. I can't even comprehend it, much less respond to it. But thank God for Mom, she's my saving grace.

She collects herself together and finally puts Bella at ease. "No, honey, I'm sorry. Alice isn't with us this trip."

Bella's face falls slightly, but she manages to keep a small smile. "Well, thank you for visiting all the same and tell Alice I missed her."

My mom reaches over to brush a stray curl from Bella's face. "I definitely will, dear, and next time I'll make sure she comes."

Bella's smile turns more genuine. "Thank you, Mrs. Cullen."

I'm still here, sitting like an idiot, not sure what to say when Charlie breezes into the room and stops short. "Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn't realize you had company," he says, giving me a look.

Before I can respond, Bella speaks up, "Dad, it's not like you don't know the Cullens anyway." She rolls her beautiful brown eyes while looking at my mom as if they share an inside joke about how clueless he is.

Charlie's jaw drops and he stutters, "Ye-yeah, sure. I, uh, I know the Cullens." Even though he's speaking to her, he's still looking at me as if I know what to do about this development.

I just shrug, unable to even begin answering his unasked questions.

My dad clears his throat. "We didn't mean to intrude, Mr. Swan. We just wanted to take our Edward out for a graduation dinner. We promis—"

"What!" Bella shrieks, cutting my dad off mid-sentence.

All eyes snap to her, but no one speaks.

What could we possibly say?

We have no idea what she 'knows', and from the sound of it, we've somehow messed up.

Bella's eyes pass over each one of us, searching, before landing back on my dad. "What. Did. You. Just. Say?" she asks, her jaw clenched just like her fists that lay by her side.

To stunned to speak—again—I step closer to her in an attempt to soothe, but she's not having it. Her hand flies up, stopping me in my spot. "I asked your father a question, Edward," she says sternly, cutting her eyes to me only when she says my name.

I stand stock still, fear gripping my heart.

Is this it?

Does graduation mean something to her?

Enough to cause this type reaction?

"Bella, honey," her dad says, trying to intervene. "I don't thin—"

"Daddy, please," she begs, her voice cracking, watery eyes never leaving my dad. "I need him to repeat what he just said."

My heart seizes in my chest.

This _is_ it.

This is the moment I've been both anticipating and dreading. The moment I knew would come but prayed it never did. And when it truly hits me, I almost crumble in my spot.

"Dad," I say, staring straight at Bella. "Could I meet you and Mom in a little bit?"

Bella's eyes cut to me, they're harsh. She's angry and I know this is only the beginning.

"Um, sure, son. Come on, Esme." He takes her arm and with one, last, sympathetic glance between Bella and me, she allows him to lead her from the room.

"Cha"—I stop to clear my throat—"Charlie, could you give us a little bit?"

"I don't know, so—"

"No, he's right, Dad. We need a few minutes." Her eyes never leave mine as she dismisses her dad from the room.

With a firm squeeze to my shoulder and a sad smile, he leaves us alone in the deafening silence.

Unsure what to do with myself, I rock back on my heels, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. Then, I very timidly move over to take my usual chair beside her bed, keeping my eyes on her in case she were to protest. I let out a relieved sigh when I'm firmly planted on the seat.

She wastes no time in crossing her arms over her chest, which causes a grimace, and lifting a brow. "What's going on, Edward?"

That's all she asks, but it's too much. What does she think she knows? How do I answer? Can I keep the truth hidden? Can I keep … her?

I run my hand through my hair in an attempt to stall on answering and quell some of the nerves that run through me like waves in the ocean. "Uh, what do you mean exactly?"

"Don't play stupid, Edward, I know better. You just cleared this room so we could talk, in private. Now talk," she demands with no sign of relenting.

"Okay," I start. "You wanted my dad to repeat himself. What do you think he said, Bella?" There, that's a good start, right? Try to find out what upset her so much about my dad's statement.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them. They're sadder and less pissed than before. "I know what he said, Edward. I know what I heard, but I don't understand." The look on her face is so heartbreaking that I can't stay away.

I move closer, reaching out to cup her face. "Bella, baby, I … I … you're going to hate me." Tears rush to my eyes with just the thought of saying the words aloud, picturing the look on her face as the realization hits.

Her hand moves up and latch onto mine. Her grip is strong as if she's bracing to hear, as if she knows it's bad. "I could never hate you," she declares, looking so earnest, I almost believe her. Until I remember exactly what I have to tell her.

I start shaking my head, the tears that had gathered now sliding down my cheeks, but I don't care, I can't care. I'm fixing to lose something so important to me that I feel as if I might die. But then I realize, it's something I never _really_ had.

"Oh, God," I wail, breaking down completely, burying my face into her side.

The snot-sobbing has started and I can't rein it in. Even the feel of her fingers as they slide through my hair does nothing but make me cry harder. Gut-wrenching sobs tear through me as I realize she won't even want to touch me anymore.

See me anymore.

Speak to me anymore.

I don't know how long it is, but at some point, her voice breaks through the haze. "Shh, Edward. Please, just talk to me. I'm afraid. You're scaring me." She repeats the words over and over until they penetrate my mind, calming me, forcing me to understand what my reluctance is doing to her.

I keep my head down and gather myself together—for her. And when I've steeled my resolve, I lift my head and face the consequences of my actions. Leaning closer, I place a gentle kiss on her forehead and then grab her hand to hold between the two of mine.

I stare her directly in those magnificent, deep brown eyes. "Bella, my sweet, beautiful Bella, I want you to remember one thing no matter what else we discuss. Okay? Can you do that? Can you promise me that you will remember?" I plead, hoping against hope that she'll not lose sight of my feelings.

She studies me, opening her mouth and closing it, only to open it once more. "What do I need to remember?"

I close my eyes and exhale and when I open them again, the look she's giving me is so tender, it nearly breaks me again. "Remember that I love you. I _do_ love you."

Panic rises in her eyes. "Why? Why would you say that? Why would I forget that? Tell me, Edward! Tell me what the fuck is going on!"

"Shh," I soothe, rubbing my thumb over her wrist. "I promise I'm going to tell you everything. But, please, remember how I feel."

The panic subsides only a little, but she gives me a small nod.

And with that, I start talking.

I spill everything I know.

I explain that we had never spoken before the incident.

I explain why I couldn't deny her when she woke.

I explain that I've loved her for a while.

And I explain how saying these words are killing me every second.

And then I apologize.

I apologize for misleading her.

I apologize for not saving her sooner.

And I apologize for what I'm about to do.

Pushing forward, I take her tear-stained face between my palms and plant my lips to hers. And just like every other time, the fire races through me at the first contact of skin. It generates at our lips and moves throughout my whole being. My tongue slides into her mouth to caress against hers, doubling the fire, sending a second wave zapping its way through my limbs, making my heart rate speed and goosebumps rise. This is my moment, the last one I may ever get and I intend to savor it, to use it up, gaining every bit of her I can to lock away for safe keeping. To reflect on when I can't have her. To cherish forever.

But I can't keep going forever. All too soon, she's pulling away, gasping for breath, her eyes wide. I'm not sure if it's in wonder or disgust, but I know I overstepped my bounds.

I place one, last, tender kiss to her forehead and stand. "I'm sorry, Bella." Then I turn to hurry from the room before I lose my shit again and beg at her feet to just allow me to stay and watch her live. To be on the outside looking in.

"Wait," she calls before I can make my escape. I freeze in my spot, refusing to turn around, afraid of what she might say next. "Edward."

The pain lacing her voice rips me apart. I have to clutch my chest to keep it from exploding, still terrified to turn around and face her.

"Please."

I can't.

I can't ignore her when she begs. Even if she wants to tear me to the ground for what I've done, I'll let her. I turn around to face her, and what I see when I do, causes my heart to thrum so hard, I have to breathe deeply to supply it with oxygen.

Her tear lined face begs me, her hand reaches for me, willing me back to her. My feet don't even ask, they start the trek without conscience thought. And when I'm before her, I drop to her side in the same manner, no thought to my actions—instinct.

I am but steel and she is my magnet.

Her hand goes to my face, cupping it and running her thumb down my tear-stained cheeks. "Edward," she says so softly I almost melt in my spot. "It's crazy. It's all crazy. And your version of the story makes so much sense. But I have that _and_ another version in my memories. A version where I loved you, you were mine and I was yours. I met your family, we were together. And then, you tell me that it didn't happen, but that you didn't need it to happen to love me. That you love me anyway. If you love me, then why are you running?"

I gulp, unable to answer her question. Unable to understand why she's even speaking to me. "I don't understand, Bella. I don't understand why you aren't yelling and screaming at me right now."

She lets out a small, incredulous giggle and shakes her head. "How can I yell and scream at the man I love, who just so happens to love me back? It doesn't matter to me _why_ I love you, just that I do. And, Edward, you've been nothing but the loving, supportive boyfriend of my dreams since I opened my eyes."

"So you're not even mad?" I ask like a dumbass, shell-shocked at her forgiving heart. I mean, I knew Bella was sweet, beautiful and smart, but I guess there's even more to learn and love than I even realized.

She smiles a genuine, loving smile that makes my chest swell. "I'm not mad … unless you're going to try and run out on me again?"

My shoulders relax completely and a grin to match her own tugs at my lips. "Fucking never, Bella. I'll never to run. I'll prove to you that _real_ boyfriend Edward is even better than dream boyfriend, Edward."

"So you're my boyfriend now?" she teases.

I smirk. "I've been your boyfriend for years. You just didn't know it yet."

"Lucky me," she replies her face glowing with satisfaction.

I can't stop myself, I push my lips to hers. It's a happy mashing of lips on lips, a thank you, a promise, a connection; the sealing of a bond so strong it'll never break

And when we break apart, the smug smiles can't be wiped away. Both so content in our togetherness that nothing else matters.

* * *

 **Well, I hope everything is perfectly clear now. Exactly what happened, Edward's fears and the outcome. I know this story could be more, way more, but I have other things I've promised to do. I won't say there will never be more, but I am marking it complete for now. Maybe one day as Lissa loves marriage and babies ;)**

 **Thank you for reading.**

 **Did he make you swoon?**


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